Purely Medicinal
by Super Chocolate Bear
Summary: Kurt goes looking for Logan, and finds something unexpected.


Disclaimer: I don't own _X-Men: Evolution._

_**Purely Medicinal**_

Cyclops flumped down into the chair in the living room, staring into the fire with his arms crossed. Beast was sat down opposite him, reading his first edition of 'Catcher in the Rye' for what seemed the hundredth time. Blue eyes glanced up over reading glasses at the X-Men's leader.

"Everything all right, Scott?"

"Fine," he shot back.

Hank froze. "Ah," he said in understanding, before gently placing a bookmark on his current page and vacating his seat as peacefully as possible.

If there was one thing that Hank knew, it was his students. And he knew when to leave them alone.

Scott was in a bad mood; that much was obvious to anyone, not just Beast. And very few things could make Scott truly, _completely _angry. Sure, he would yell at someone who was misbehaving, but that was actually quite rare. He left that stuff to Logan, or rather, his training sessions.

No, the bespectacled X-Man would only become _truly _angry when one of three things happened.

1: His car had become damaged, be it some mutant related fight, or Kurt getting ice cream on the leather. Usually the latter.

2: Something Jean related. Either Jean had taken something he had said the wrong way, or vice versa. Last time, it was Jean mentioning Gambit in a complimentary manner, _after _having had lunch with said Cajun, Kitty and Tabitha. _Without_ telling Scott she was going to do so, of course.

3: Scott hadn't had enough exercise. It made him antsy, and he would often snap at people for no good reason. He needed to burn off a certain amount of energy each day to feel at a normal level.

This time, it was number three. He _had _wanted to go for his regular run, but had been irked to discover that someone had somehow managed to cake his jogging attire in mud since Scott had put it in the washer-dryer the day previous.

Kurt had asked him why he didn't have more than one set of jogging clothes.

In retrospect, it was a bad idea.

Kurt was always the one to get the blame for such things, although most of the time it was rarely his fault. People didn't seem to realise that Kurt wasn't careful enough to pull off the anonymous pranks. Hell, he could barely pull off the ones with his name printed on them.

Come to think of it, he wasn't actually sure where the whole reputation of him being a prankster came from. Yes, he was a goof; he would be the first to admit that. But Tabitha was always the one who would plan these elaborate pranks. He just helped her carry them out.

Kurt scratched his chin.

Maybe _that _was why. A reputation by association.

Whatever.

Unfortunately for him, he _knew _who else would be in a bad mood because of Scott's grumpy demeanour.

And it wasn't Jean.

The other person was now heading down the corridor towards him, though she didn't seem to be making a beeline for him. His keenly honed instincts told him that was a good thing.

He brought up a hand to wave and barely took the breath to say 'hello' when Rogue interrupted her.

"Not now, Kurt!" she yelled, prompting him to yelp slightly and hop out of the way.

Unlike Scott, there were a whole multitude of things that could vex Rogue. But Kurt knew what the problem was.

When Scott went out for this morning jog, he wore cycling shorts and a T-Shirt. The kind of cycling shorts that presented physically fit people (such as Scott) and their subsequent anatomy in a most enticing way.

Specifically, the rear end.

Now, Rogue wasn't usually the type to ogle. But occasionally, during a low moment, she would find herself drawn to such exhibits purely for their physical value. It was _one _of the reasons (she swore there were others) she liked to play squash with Scott. And, after Gambit's lunch with Jean, Kitty and Tabitha (to which Rogue was not invited), she was in need of some kind of respite.

Which didn't appear at 7:00AM sharp in the morning as usual. In fact, it didn't appear at all. This left Rogue slightly peeved, and more than slightly annoyed that she had woken herself up so early for nothing.

And so, Rogue was now in a bad mood.

Kurt wandered the corridors numbly for a few minutes, unsure of what to do. For a place that was so big, there wasn't actually _that _much to do.

"Kurt?"

The elf jumped up into the air and turned around in alarm.

"Gah! Professor! Don't do that!"

The wheelchair-bound mentor of the X-Men cocked a curious eyebrow, but didn't pursue the matter any further.

"I apologise, Kurt. But dinner is ready, and I'm having difficulty finding Logan. Would you mind?"

Kurt stood to attention and saluted. "Aye-aye, captain!"

With a slightly bemused smile, the Professor turned and rolled away.

Nightcrawler tapped his chin thoughtfully while looking at the ceiling.

_Let's see… if I were Logan, where would I be?_

He smiled at the lame little rhyme he had just made in his head. He first tried the danger room.

No one there.

He then tried the garage.

No one there, either. However, Logan's bike was still firmly in place, so that meant he was somewhere in the institute. Kurt frowned and teleported to the middle of the grounds to get a better view of the mansion. There, sat on the roof, was Logan. Kurt smiled and teleported over.

The Canadian seemed… surprised to see him.

"GAH! What the hell are you trying to do, Elf?"

Kurt laughed nervously. "Sorry. Just came to tell you that dinner's read-" he stopped himself and sniffed the air. "What's that smell?"

A cagey look crossed Logan's face. "There's no smell. Just get down there and tell Charles I'll be down in a minute."

"No, there's definitely a smell…"

"Look, Elf, if there was a smell, don't you think _I _would be able to pick it up?"

"Well… yeah, I guess…"

Logan nodded. "All right then. Now get down there and save me a seat, would ya?"

Kurt grinned evilly. "Unless… you were _hiding _something!"

He teleported to the other side of Wolverine in an instant, and mock gasped at what Logan had in his hand.

"Logan! Are you… smoking a cigar?"

"I… no."

A dark blue eyebrow shot up. "You're not?"

"Look…" he sighed. "Just don't tell anyone, okay Elf?"

"No problem." He smirked. "But only if I get some too."

"…what."

It wasn't a question.

"Some of your cigar."

Logan shook his head vehemently. "No. No way, Elf. This is a hand wrapped Cuban cigar; it's too much for you. Besides, Charles'd kill me."

"And an _illegal _cigar, too! Just wait until the guys hear about this…" he said, starting to crawl down off the roof. A large hand firmly grasped his tail and yanked him back.

"Fine," Logan grumbled, handing it over.

Grinning, Kurt brought it to his lips.

"Now, don't- don't-!" Logan groaned. "Don't inhale it, Elf. Just breathe it into your mouth."

Kurt grinned Wolverine, causing the cigar to point upwards. "Hey! Do I look like a 50s mob boss, or what?"

"Those guys didn't smoke Cubans in the 50s," Logan muttered, snatching the cigar from Kurt. "There. You've had your fun, now-"

"Hey!"

Wolverine ducked his head. He knew that voice.

"Nice, Elf," he said, eyes half closed as he looked at Kurt. "You bring the half pint along too?"

He put his hands up in defence. "Not me, honest!"

"No, the Professor sent me to get your guys. You guys were taking so long, and now I see why. Some of us are hungry, and _you're _holding us up so you can share a stogie."

Kurt couldn't help but smile at the exasperated look on Logan's face. "All right, half pint, what's _your _price for not yapping about this to Charles?"

She smirked. "How about some of that cigar?"

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Logan grumbled in annoyance, snatching the cigar away from Kurt.

Again.

"Listen, Elf, if you have too much it'll make ya sick."

The blue furred mutant waved a dismissive hand. "Pffft. You're just trying to dissuade us."

"No, I'm- hey!" he yelled in protest as Kitty's hand reached through his chest, grabbed the cigar, and brought it back again. He turned quickly to face her.

"And aren't _you _obsessed with health? These things aren't exactly good for ya."

"Yeah, but… the way I see it, I'm only doing it this once to tick you off, so that makes it okay." She winked at him. "Just this once."

A deep growl came from Wolverine's throat as a large blue hand landed on the side of the roof.

"All right," Beast said as he clambered onto the roof. "Everyone else is at dinner, so-" his words caught in his throat as he saw Kitty and Kurt sat on either side of an exasperated Logan. "Um…"

"Mr McCoy?" Kitty yelled, coughing on her cigar and letting it fall to the ground. Logan desperately reached out and snatched the cigar before it landed.

"Careful, half pint!"

Beast looked at Logan, a strange mixture of disapproval and incredulity in his voice. "Logan… you're sharing a cigar with these two?"

"Not by choice," he muttered.

"Ah, I see. They're holding you up for ransom, are they?"

Kurt grinned. "And now you."

A panicked look crossed McCoy's face, and Logan smirked.

"Me? Why me? I was just coming up here to look at the grounds."

Kitty and Kurt stared at him.

He sighed.

"All right. Once a month, Logan and I come to the roof and share a cigar. It helps us deal with the stress of working with you kids."

Kitty gasped. "What stress!"

Both Logan and Beast gave her a sarcastic look, their eyes half closed.

She smiled sheepishly. "Oh, yeah. Well, I guess this _could _count."

Beast sighed, turned, and flopped onto his back, propping himself up on his elbows. "As long as you already know about it, I'll just forego any pretence and ask Logan to pass the cigar."

This elicited a noise of protest from Logan before he handed over the cigar.

"Well," Kurt began, "as long as we know when you do this, maybe we can join you once a month!"

Logan and McCoy quickly turned to look at him. "No," they said simultaneously. They both turned to Kitty, who had opened her mouth, ready to speak. "No," they both said, again simultaneously.

"Anyway," Beast continued, "you two should be getting to your dinner."

Logan nodded. "_Buttered_ mash potatoes…"

"_Churned _to perfection…"

"_Churning _and _churning."_

The emphasis on certain words began to take their toll on the already slightly queasy Kurt and Kitty.

"Something wrong, half pint?"

Beast looked over at Kurt. "Is there, Kurt?"

"Uh, no…"

Kitty shook her head vehemently, but regretted it afterward. "We're fine."

"Really?" McCoy asked, eyebrow cocked. "Because to me, you look kind of sick. What about you, Logan?"

Logan smirked. "Oh yeah. I think it's the way they're swaying back and forth, back and forth…"

Beast began to swing his body slightly from side to side. "Oh yeah… I see it now. They look kind of-"

"Gonna barf!" Kurt suddenly yelled before teleporting away.

Grinning, the two tutors turned to see Kitty phasing down through the floor.

Both breathed a sigh of relief.

"Well. That was easier than I thought."

Logan nodded. "It was harder getting rid of Cyclops."

"Ah, yes. What was it he asked for? To ride your motorcycle?"

"Yeah."

"How did that go, by the way?"

"Let me put it this way: I have a new bike now."

Hank grinned, and Logan scowled.

"Either stop smiling, or give me the cigar."

Still smiling, he handed it over. Just as Logan took a long, grateful breath, they both heard a set of light feet land on the roof. The Canadian mutant looked up at the sky.

"Hello, you two," Storm said, smiling. "And what might you be doing?"

Logan looked up at the sky. "I just want to smoke a cigar…"

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(A/N: I have no idea what inspired this story (besides my buying the Season 3 DVD set, of course). Probably seeing how Logan had few of his comic habits, and I thought it'd be interesting to see how everyone else at the Institute would respond to his smoking.

Anyway… not much else to say, except… review!)


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